


The Gift (Price) of Genius

by emmawalters



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Gen, half-vague descriptions involving needles and eyeballs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-05
Updated: 2014-02-05
Packaged: 2018-01-11 06:45:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 487
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1169926
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emmawalters/pseuds/emmawalters
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles has always had a two-track mind; he used to call it the gift of his genius.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Gift (Price) of Genius

Years ago, before werewolves and other creatures of myth, both innocent and jaded in only the way a middle schooler can be, Stiles called it the gift of genius. He could take notes for math with one hand and turn pages in The Hobbit with the other, his mind in two places at once. His teachers used to scold him, cite studies that claimed such multitasking was detrimental to both tasks. But he was always able to pass the age-old test of, “what did I just say?” Most of them gave up, and called his success a statistical outlier.

Stiles likes to think it’s his mind’s way of making up for years of dreamless sleep, that he might dream while he is awake, and live in the world between. Sleep without dreams meant sleep without nightmares, though, and eventually the nightmares found him in the waking world just as the dreams did.

It began with an idle thought and a needle. While getting a shot, he pondered what it would be like to receive shots in other various places. He pictured a needle delving into his eyes last, wincing on the car ride home. at the thought and trying desperately to forget that it had come into existence. 

For weeks, the image haunted him. As he read, as he took notes in math class, as he laid in bed trying desperately to calm his mind enough for sleep. He couldn’t forget the vividly imagined scene, the thin, shining sliver of metal sliding smoothly into the whites of his eyes. He tried in vain to distract himself, hoping loud enough music would drown out his thoughts, but nothing worked. The thought was there, ever present in the back of his consciousness, and closing his eyes would only let him see it.

Scott could never quite understand his horror, and eventually Stiles stopped telling him about the horrific and imaginative flashes. It wasn’t like Scott gave him helpful advice. _(Why don’t you just stop thinking about it? as if he hadn’t tried and tried and tried.)_

The needle was only the beginning - the tip, per say. He would recount embarrassing moments in the dead of night and twist horror movie scenes into his personal nightmares on accident. Eventually, Stiles stopped watching anything scary, for fear that he might give his mind more ideas. The thoughts would strike like lightning but their marks were much more lasting.

His living nightmares are more vivid and vile, now. Stiles sees torn bodies, and know their scent is familiar. The blood that was once B horror film fake is the perfect shade of crimson and just as viscous, accompanied by the tang of copper in his mouth. He can hear screams and feel the slice of knives. First hand experience makes the images all the more powerful.

Stiles two-track mind is no longer the gift of his genius.

Now it is the price.

 

**Author's Note:**

> In which stiles is me and I am stiles and picturing that eyeball thing is really probably more terrifying than it sounds.


End file.
